


My Meddlesome Me

by Antares



Category: SG-1 - Fandom
Genre: Friends to Lovers, Kissing, M/M, POV First Person, Season/Series 09, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-28
Updated: 2012-02-28
Packaged: 2018-06-05 02:24:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6685501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Antares/pseuds/Antares
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack's Clone visits Jack in Washington</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Meddlesome Me

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Mein lästiges Ich](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6685408) by [Antares](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Antares/pseuds/Antares). 



> Many, many thanks to KJ who made the story so much better. All remaining mistakes are mine. *g*

When the phone rang, I first took a quick glance at my watch – 4 p.m., Sunday afternoon, must be Daniel – then I looked at the caller ID to verify it. Yep, my deduction skills were still working perfectly. 

“Hi, Daniel.” 

“Hi, Jack.” 

Since I had been in Washington – and it had been more than a year now – Daniel called every Sunday afternoon at the same time, regular as a clock-work. Not counting of course those not-so-few occasions when he was off-world fighting evil overlords, or being in the clutches of that horrible daughter of Vala’s and her merry band of would-be-gods. 

“You got that strange email from John, too?” Daniel was never someone to beat around the bush if there was something that needed my immediate attention. 

‘John who?’ I wanted to ask, but there were only two Johns that I knew that might send me an email. And the Sheppard one was tucked safely away in the Pegasus Galaxy, so Daniel must be speaking about my clone. Or ‘fruit of my loins’, as how he liked to call him just to irk me. Of course in a strictly biological sense he was right, but on the other hand it was so wrong on so many levels to call him that – that Daniel, of course, continued to do so. 

But this time he had called him John, and so I answered in a rather civilised manner with only a hint of sarcasm, “Oh, you mean that short message telling me in no uncertain terms that he will visit me the second weekend in February, and it would be nice to also invite you?” 

Daniel laughed. “Exactly. I got a similarly phrased summoning.” 

I snorted. “Summoning is good.” 

“Come on Jack, you haven’t seen him for how long now? Five months?” 

And five months wasn’t long enough, if you asked me. But nobody did, and so I had been forced to see him for birthdays and Christmas. Okay, Christmas I understood, nobody should be alone on Christmas. But why couldn’t a seventeen year body with a forty-plus-something soul spend his birthday alone? All possibilities were open to him! 

In the first year, Daniel had even invited him during the holidays, but thank god that was over now. When Daniel felt the need to see him more than twice a year, he did it alone, not dragging me along anymore. 

“Hey, I didn’t tell him to wander around Europe for weeks,” I defended myself against the inherent accusation that I didn’t see my clone often enough. Three months in Europe, and that little bastard had had the nerve to send me cards from every spot he visited. Telling me how much it had changed since I had last been there, or reminding me that I had always wanted to visit Venice, Paris and Athens, but so far had never found the time to do so, and then asking me how sad that was. He was really rubbing it in that he had all my memories, knew all about my plans and wishes, at least from about three years ago. 

For him, a lot had changed within the last three years. He had finished High School with excellent grades, had gone on this exciting trip over the pond, and a few months ago had started his aeronautical studies at the MIT in Cambridge. 

I, on the other hand, had moved from Colorado Springs to Washington to be grounded behind a desk. 

“Jack?” Daniel sounded preoccupied and I realized that I had zoned out for a moment, thinking enviously about the exciting life of my younger self. 

I tried to reassure Daniel, “I’m fine. And if you promise to be here too, I’ll accept his self-invitation.” 

“I already checked with Landry. There’s no missions planned for that week, and I can even stay a few days longer in Washington if that’s fine with you.” 

“Perfectly okay with me, as long as you swear not to leave me alone with him,” I said only half-jokingly. It always gave me the creeps when someone looking so young knew so much about me. Fortunately, he didn’t look like I had looked at that age, when shoulder length hair and a blow-dry had been en vogue, or it would have been even worse. 

Daniel called me a wuss, but promised nevertheless. 

\------------------------------------------

The second weekend in February saw not only Daniel and John at my apartment, but also a certain Marcus Winterfield. 

Two days ago my impossible mini-me had called and asked me if I minded if he brought along his roommate. I tried to tactfully say no, telling him with four people my apartment would be too crowded as it was, but he promised Marcus would bring an air-mattress and a sleeping bag and they would be fine with wherever I deigned to let them sleep. It was only for two or three days and me being his only relative … and so on and so on. He’d appealed to my guilty conscience and succeeded.

Daniel had consented to fetch them from the Airport, while I placed a lasagne in the oven. When the doorbell rang, I opened the front door.

“Where have you been? It’s nearly fifty …” I stopped and finished lamely, “Come on in.” 

I looked from Daniel, who gave me a raised eyebrow, to John, who had a really devilish grin, to Marcus Winterfield…who had an astonishing resemblance to a young Daniel Jackson. Short, brown hair, spectacles, and he was even wearing a chequered flannel shirt. How on earth had John convinced him to put on such an unfashionable shirt? 

“Hi, Uncle Jack, this is Marcus, my roommate. Marcus, this is my dear uncle Jack.” John made the introductions. 

“Mr. O’Neill … uh … General,” Marcus gave John a pleading look to help him out, and suddenly I suspected that not a lot of convincing had been necessary to make him wear this shirt. Marcus obviously wasn’t aware that John was using him to play a trick on me. 

“Hi, Marcus, call me Jack,” I saved the young man from his predicament, and shot John an evil eye. 

“Thank you. I’m pleased to make your acquaintance, and thank you very much for the invitation,” he answered politely. 

“Don’t mention it. I hope you’re hungry?” 

He nodded. “Yes, thank you.” 

We all sat around the table and started with some small-talk; Daniel complaining about the heavy traffic on the way to airport, John praising my culinary skills, which made me even more nervous. What was the young devil up to? 

By the time we had dessert, I had learned that Europe had been a blast, the new university was a lot of fun and his courses were interesting but not that demanding that he didn’t have enough free time to drive around on his brand-new bike, which his favourite Auntie Sam – of all people! – had given him for his twentieth birthday. 

Marcus didn’t say much, but when Daniel engaged him in a conversation about university life, he became less reserved and I heard him laugh from time to time. 

It had been a long and strenuous day for everyone, and shortly before midnight we converted my couch to a bed where the young people could put their sleeping bags and spend the night; 

Daniel and I retreated first to the bathroom and then to my bedroom. 

“So, what do you think of him?” I asked Daniel. 

“He’s a nice boy.” He grinned impishly at me and added, “And that’s such a nice shirt.” 

“I bet that’s John’s doing,” I growled. 

Daniel laughed and stripped efficiently to his underwear, before climbing under the covers. It was a bit strange to have him here in my bed; usually he would sleep on the couch when he was staying with me. But there had been a time once when we were used to sharing a tent, so it was no biggie for me. 

I wished Daniel a good night, and tried to make sense of this day – but in vain. Something that was simmering directly under the surface eluded me again and again. I suspected that I had to wait for the next day to learn more about young John’s schemes. 

\----------------------------------------------

The next day saw me as a chauffeur, Daniel as a tour guide and at least Marcus genuinely admiring all the attractions of Washington. To impress John as well, I made a lot of stops where I was sure that I – and therefore also he – had never been before. 

The day went smoothly until lunch. We went to a Diner where Daniel and I occupied one of the benches and John and Marcus sat opposite us. And there the veil finally fell from my eyes. They were much more than roommates, unless the term ‘roommate’ had changed thus drastically over the last thirty years! 

John was feeding Marcus little bites from his fork, to let him try out his spaghetti, Marcus was touching John’s fingers much longer than necessary. And when they had finished eating, their intertwined hands were lying very visibly on the table. 

I felt heat shooting up to my ears, flushing my neck and my cheeks. John was flaunting his – my – bi-sexuality for everyone to see! I had never acted on my attraction to men because I wanted to stay in the Air Force and I wanted to have a career, so this open display of affection went directly to my gut. If someone drew the right conclusions… 

It took me a whole minute to regulate my breathing and convince myself, that in this room only Daniel, John and I knew that John shared memories and desires with me. For all the other people it was just two young men holding hands. 

Of course Mr. Observant at my side would draw his own conclusions. Hopefully he would attribute his findings to the fact that John hadn’t been me for the last three years. At least he had the grace not to comment on this hand-holding in public, but instead acted as if nothing had happened and asked the waitress for the bill. 

I was thankful when I felt the cold, fresh air on my face after we left the restaurant. We decided to take a short walk before getting into the car again. I don’t know how John managed it, but instead of Daniel, I found myself suddenly in the company of Marcus. He reminded me so much of young Dr. Jackson that I assumed he would be interested in archaeology and linguistics, but to my utter relief I found out that he was also a student of Aeronautics at the MIT and the only old things he liked were old airplanes. I was totally on board with that, being myself an enthusiast of World War I machines, and soon we were talking shop. 

At first he was a bit diffident, but who wouldn’t be in the presence of a general? Even if said general was wearing totally un-general-y things like baggy pants and a mismatched anorak. But when Marcus thought I was wrong and he was right, he defended his opinion with the same fervour a young Daniel would have done. And suddenly I knew that John hadn’t brought him along only to exasperate me – that also, yes – but that he really had a thing for him. And why wouldn’t he? Given a second chance and not being in the military what would I have done? 

Daniel and John caught up with us shortly after this profound revelation had hit me, and we all decided to spend the afternoon somewhere by the water, and so drove to Mount Vernon, last home of George Washington. We skipped the introduction movie at the Ford Orientation Center and strolled through the gardens directly to the shores of the Potomac River. Now in February, everything was still brown and the trees still bare, but the first crocuses and snowdrops already bloomed spots of color. 

Some time later, we engaged in a friendly but nevertheless competitive game of whose stone touched the surface of the water the most times before sinking down, and gladly it was Marcus who won. 

On our way home we stopped at a Chinese take-out, bought food for half a battalion, and spent the evening at home. John and Marcus were talking about the university, strange professors and the upcoming exams. The whole time I waited for some sort of shoe to drop. I didn’t even really know what I was expecting, but the evening passed without incident, if I didn’t count that they were nearly … cuddling on the sofa. 

Once in bed, Daniel turned to me and asked, “That was a pleasant day, wasn’t it?” 

“Hmm,” I grumbled, although I had to admit I sort of liked the … whole family feeling this day had had. Not that I ever would tell John that he felt like family for me! 

“And Marcus is a nice guy, don’t you think so?” my pain-in-the-ass friend continued. 

“He loves old planes.” I tried to steer this conversation into safe waters. “We were talking about the Bell P-39 Aircobra and the Northrop P-61 Black Widow. Did you know he actually had the chance to visit the cockpit of the latter two years ago during a flight show in Nebraska?” 

“Interesting,” Daniel answered and his tone indicated the contrary. 

I knew exactly what he wanted to talk about and so I waltzed on, “There are only four Black Widow night fighters in existence, three are incapable of flight, but the Mid Atlantic Air Museum is trying to restore the fourth.” 

“I see,” Daniel said, and I got the bad feeling he was seeing right through my distraction manoeuvre. But gracefully he refrained from calling me out on it, feigned a yawn and wished me a good night. 

I felt like I had let him down somehow. But I squeezed this ugly thought into a very remote drawer of my brain, wished him sweet dreams and pulled the covers over my ears. 

\------------------------------------------------

The next morning I noticed two things when I awoke. Daniel was already up and a lovely scent of coffee was floating around the apartment. I hopped into my clothes and went to the dining area full of anticipation. 

“Morning, Jack,” John greeted me while preparing something that looked remotely like scrambled eggs. 

“Morning. Uh … where is everybody?” I asked, after a cursory glance around the room revealed no one else and there were no sounds coming from the bathroom. 

“Oh, Daniel and Marcus went to fetch croissants and pain au chocolat – and whatever your boyfriend deems necessary for a Valentine’s breakfast worthy of the name.” 

“Valentine’s?” I asked, totally overlooking for the moment the boyfriend-part of the sentence. 

“Don’t tell me you didn’t get anything for Daniel?” he joked. 

“I… I… why didn’t you tell me yesterday?” I accused him. 

“It never came up,” he shrugged. “Write him an invitation for a fancy expensive French restaurant, wrap it with a red ribbon and he’ll never suspect you forgot the day.” 

I stared at him angrily, but having no better idea myself, I fetched paper and a pen and started writing the voucher. John was lurking beside me and looking over my shoulder. 

Suddenly, he said, “Okay, I don’t know how much time we’ll have before they return. So, Jack, will you ever tell him how you feel about him?” 

“What?” I lowered my voice and continued, “No, no. Daniel is my best friend, nothing more. We’re old friends… best friends, but nothing more. You got it totally wrong.” I knew I’d protested with too many words. 

John’s eyebrows rose in a very characteristic way. “Don’t forget I know about your fantasies. I understand that you weren’t comfortable acting on your feelings while he was in your direct chain of command. But, well, what is keeping you from telling him now?” 

“Daniel isn’t interested in me in that way.” Perhaps if I said it out loud I would even believe it. 

“Bullshit. Dream on. Only because you said ‘no’ about three years ago to his very, very carefully formulated question shortly after he had descended, and you managed nevertheless to stay best friends, doesn’t mean that Daniel’s feelings for you have changed in the meantime.” 

“He slept with other women – and so did I,” I tried to defend myself. 

“I also slept with half the High School – and you can believe me, with a body of a 17 year old and experience of thirty years, that’s really, really easy …” 

“La, la, la.” I put my hands on my ears. “I don’t want to know details.” 

“Don’t be childish,” John laughed. “What I was going to say is: in the end, it wasn’t what I wanted. It was nice and a lot of fun – but I couldn’t imagine spending more than a weekend with one of the girls. And then I met Marcus. As you already know, he’s six years older than I am…” Six years my senior? I mentally shook myself as John carried on blindly, “…is preparing his thesis and is … so much more grown-up than all the other rookies. When I realized that I wanted him, my little brain that had been conditioned to like women – thank you very much for thirty years of brainwashing by the way – was shocked.” 

“I didn’t b…,” I tried to interrupt him. 

But he continued unperturbedly, “When I noticed that I was going to make the same mistake you had made with Daniel, I went to Europe for three months, to get my head clear.” 

“And now you want to transfer your experiences one-to-one on me?” I asked mockingly. But in my stomach a fat knot was building that got heavier and nastier with every sentence John said. 

John put his hand on my lower arm and said with badly veiled vehemence, “Jack, you are over fifty now. You can’t wait for the abolishment of DADT. That won’t happen in your lifetime. So, when do you think you’ll finally do what tempted you your whole life?” 

“That’s not true. I… I…” The bad thing in discussions with oneself is that we both knew exactly where the little lies started. 

“It is true.” He didn’t say more and his gaze never left my eyes. And it wasn’t the look of a twenty year old. I saw pain and resignation, a deep sadness and much suffering. I felt my throat constrict when I suddenly realized how hard John had to work to find his way in this world where he had lost so much. How easy it had been for me to simply return to my old life as if nothing had happened. 

“I’m… sorry,” I stammered. “I have often been so impatient with you, so… mean and so angry.” 

“Ditto,” he answered. Then he pulled himself together, winked at me and said, “Don’t try to divert attention from the fact that we’re discussing you and not me. I’ll manage. At least they’re treating me like an adult again at the university and the studies are fun. But with you, we’ll have to change quite a few things.” 

“We have to?” I asked with a ghost of a smile. 

“Yes, we do. And don’t get upset again, but yesterday, while walking with Daniel I talked to him, and after a moment of hem and haw, he confessed that he would take you any time, if you’d finally get off your backside and make a move. Of course he verbalized that in a more polite and smart way, you know how…” 

“Never in his life had he ever admitted something like that,” I interrupted him. That’s not like Daniel, not even when talking to a younger ‘me’. 

“Well, it’s possible I played the compassionate card mercilessly”, he confessed. “Maybe I painted me as a poor, lonely orphan who has nobody else in the world, et cetera, et cetera. I know all of Daniel’s weaknesses. In the end he can’t deny me anything.” 

Yeah, I know that. If I acted cleverly I could nearly have everything from Daniel. “That’ wasn’t nice…” I started to protest. 

I heard a key being turned in the door and then there were Daniel’s and Marcus’ voice debating over a headline in the newspaper. No, no, no! There were still so many questions left! 

John got up, put a hand on my shoulder and whispered into my ear, “Tell him!” He straightened, made a step into to the room and addressed Marcus. “You got everything?” 

“Hmm. Have a smell!” Marcus stuck the bag with the croissants into John’s hand. 

“Smells heavenly.” 

Before we sat down at the table, Marcus gave John a box in the shape of a heart with pralines inside it, and John returned the favour by giving him a kiss and … a voucher for a restaurant with a red ribbon! He countered my sparkling look with a shrug of his shoulders. 

From Daniel I got a tall, framed photo of the whole former SG-1 team and a smaller one showing him and me while canoeing. Which meant that he had remembered before coming here that today was Valentine’s Day. My voucher for the restaurant with the red ribbon provided an opportunity for a lot of laughing, but I saved myself by saying, “Great minds often think alike.” 

We had a copious breakfast and John informed us that they had to be at the airport at sixteen hundred. That left us with a few hours to visit the Smithsonian National Air and Space Museum – a must for two MIT students – before we took them to the airport. For me the hours wandering around the museum provided an opportunity to think this whole thing through. Although “thinking through” was exaggerated, my thoughts were flying in all directions, too much was assailing me at the same time. 

After waving good-bye and promising to visit them in the foreseeable future in Cambridge – and this time my promise wasn’t an empty one – Daniel and I were alone. Thank god Daniel talked during the whole ride back about the museum, because I hadn’t the first clue when and how to talk to him. 

Back in the apartment, I threw the keys on the table in the dining room, and my look fell on the photo of Daniel and me in the canoe. That had been last summer. Daniel had talked with Major Davis and arranged a short holiday of three days for me, and had dragged me on this canoe tour. Perfectly organized with tent, camp fire, baked beans eaten directly from the tin, and hordes of mosquitoes – the whole enchilada. It had been the only vacation I had had during my first year in Washington. 

Daniel was indeed the part of my life that wasn’t work. Daniel was the person that cared about me and my well-being. Daniel was one of the most durable and difficult … relationships I’ve had in my life. I just had to accept the term “relationship”, and not veil it with the “only friends” excuse. 

“I need something warm now. Do you want a tea or a coffee? Or do you have rum? Then we could make ourselves some grog,” Daniel, who had walked straight to the kitchen, asked. 

“Tea with rum,” I answered, only to say something because suddenly I knew that I was only minutes … seconds away from a decision that would change my whole life. That felt frightening and awesome at the same time. If I was brutally honest with myself, my life here in Washington was in dire need of some changes, otherwise it would eat me alive. 

John had given me a big advantage. I knew Daniel’s answer in advance. I only had to make up my mind. I asked myself what I was so afraid of? Daniel would say ‘yes’ so the embarrassment factor was null. Daniel wouldn’t talk to anybody about it, so there would be no repercussion for my career and/or my pension. Daniel… Shit, I was sometimes as a bad as he was overthinking everything. Sometimes you had to listen to your gut – or your heart. 

With a decisive step I marched into the kitchen. Daniel was standing in front of the sink filling the water kettle. I approached behind him, put my arms around him and folded my hands over his belly. And waited. Every muscle in my body was tightly wound, I nearly felt sick with tension. 

Daniel gulped in air, put the water kettle aside and laid his hands over mine. He let his head sink back onto my shoulder and said softly, “Finally.” 

It was as easy as that? No explanations – although I was sure that they would come later – but in this moment Daniel simply accepted that I wanted to change … our status.  
If a small part of my brain still didn’t believe that John had had this conversation already with Daniel, then here was the proof. 

I turned my head to the left and kissed him lightly and hesitantly on the cheek. I felt his five o’clock shadow on my jaw and a warm shudder of anticipation ran through my body. 

A smile played around Daniel’s lips, and seeing this I became more adventurous and pressed another kiss on his neck. Everything felt so totally right. Me and Daniel, in my kitchen, embracing – I had been such a dick to struggle against this for so long. I felt the stress draining from my body and I leaned heavily against Daniel’s back. It felt so good to have somebody to lean on, not only in the figurative way of speaking. 

“Whatever you want, Jack,” Daniel whispered after a moment and turned slowly in my arms. He wrapped his arms around my neck, pressed himself closer to me and breathed a kiss into the crook of my neck. 

Whatever I wanted? Well, I wasn’t picky. This here was already very, very nice. I couldn’t remember if anybody had held me in an embrace since saying goodbye to my team in Colorado Springs. Even Daniel, when he visited me, restrained himself to a touch on my arm or a hand on my shoulder. I hadn’t realized how much I had missed this, the touch and the closeness of another person. 

“Whatever you want,” I said and it was the truth. Whatever Daniel wanted – I was sure I also wanted, or Daniel could make me want it. 

Daniel laughed, a rare and delightful sound in my life, and mischievously added, „I want everything, Jack.” 

“So do I.” We could debate about the fine print later. 

We looked at each other and then grinned, a bit unsure about the next step. 

“That’s definitively the best Valentine’s Day I’ve ever had,” Daniel said and leaned forward to close the last inches that still separated us. 

I felt the tip of his fingers caressing the hair at the nape of my neck, sending little sparks of heat through my body. “And we have still three days,” I mumbled against his lips that opened for me. When I felt the first touch of Daniel’s tongue against mine, I groaned loudly and pulled him closer at his waist. Yes, yes. Exactly like that. John was right. I had waited all those years for a moment like this. First my fantasies had been very vague and general, but in the last years they had involved Daniel. 

I had already spent too much time with dreams, which often had made me feel guilty afterwards. But now I was allowed to savour this moment without a pang of conscience, because it was very clear that Daniel was totally on board, panting and groaning and taking my mouth possessively. 

“Stop thinking,” he chided me, stealing a sentence from my repertoire. He playfully thumped my upper arm before he resumed his kissing. His hands glided over my body and under my pullover and I couldn’t do anything else but follow his order.

 

\--------THE END-------

 

©Antares, February 2012


End file.
